


Battle of The Imaginary Minds

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Series: Weirdo's Slasher/Bad Guy Stories [6]
Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Father, Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Father Figures, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jason is a hero, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Pregnant Reader, Reader has a daughter, Scars, Slow Burn, Smut, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2020-07-09 19:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19892938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: Jason Voorhees/You story. In this story the reader is pregnant and has a daughter. You're just trying to make a better living for yourselves, get away from your x-husband and settle down. But that whole idea escalates when your daughter finds an imaginary friend who isn't so imaginary the more you find out about him.(Why am I suddenly shipping big guys with sharp objects?)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow slasher fans! Here's another weird story to satisfy any unsatisfied slasher cravings. Jason is so cute ^V^ isn't he?
> 
> Warnings are in the tags. I hope you enjoy reading and have a nice day!
> 
> (y/n) - Your name.  
> (d/n) - daughters name (I want everyone to have a choice on that.)  
> (h/n) - husbands name.

As the sound of engines roaring to life blasted through the air, you stand there in the middle of your new yard, watching with a gentle smile on your face as your little girl received the last box from the moving man and carried it over to the porch all by herself. Pride filled your heart, making your smile that much wider as she then giggled and ran excitedly up to you. Bending over to what extent matched her height, you lifted out a five dollar bill and whispered, "Good job, honeybun. Now... go say thank you."

She grinned happily- a toothless smile that could never cease to warm your heart- and quickly turned around to run to the moving man before he jumped into his truck. The whole time you watched, smile gracing your face as one hand held your slightly bulging belly. If it hadn't been for your five month cycle of pregnancy, you would have merely done all the moving yourself, but ever since the great trauma that had happened not too long ago, you couldn't find the strength or energy to stress any longer.

The moving men had been nice and understood your condition, and which for that you were thankful. They had been pretty nice with your daughter who helped to unload the smaller boxes and items, encouraging her and being silly during times. Now that they were all finished, (d/n) insisted on giving at least one of them a hug, because she really loved to hug, and tipping him off for all his hard work.

Of course you knew how much your daughter loved hugs. She was the most open minded person you knew to be true. But that didn't stop you from keeping a close eye out on her.

You worries seemed to be all for not, however, as the moving man hugged (d/n) quickly, said something that made her laugh, and thanked her for the tip. From there he stood up, tipped his hat and gave you a kind departing wave. You courtly wave back and smile, watching as he vanished into the passenger side of the truck.

(d/n) continued to wave and wave until the truck vanished through the thick trees, leaving nothing but sandy dust behind on their way. Then she jumped around and ran back to your side, giggling happily and smiling her adorable missing-tooth grin.

"Did you see that, mommy?" She asked, pigtails dancing on her head as she bounced with joy, "That man was so nice!"

"I know," You say in your own cheerful agreement, lifting out your hand to take hers, "He was so impressed by how strong you were, I don't think he could believe it."

(d/n) kept giggling as you headed to the stairs of the cabin together, her feet nearly bouncing as you went. "Do you think he liked my hug?" she asked, voice going a little bit timid.

You stop, some type of motherly mischievousness running through the front of your mind as you looked down at her. "Well why wouldn't he? You did such a good job helping, and you're so nice."

Her cheeks darkened and she looked down at the ground, wide smile hidden as she mumbled shyly, "He was really nice too..."

"Oh my gosh," you suddenly say in an alarming voice, taking a step back from your daughter and releasing her hand.

She looked at you, eyes wide and worried as she asked softly, "What?"

"Is that...?" You squint your eyes and point at her face, saying in bewilderment and suspicion, "Are you blushing?"

It happened rather fast to your amusement; (d/n) face turned a darker shade of red than what it already was and she grabbed her pigtails to try and hide her face of relentlessly adorable embarrassment. "Mommy...."

You chuckle at her embarrassed grumble and pat her back, "Come on, sweetie. Let's finish unpacking."

A couple hours passed. You and your daughter were able to set up most of the living room, the kitchen and part of your master bedroom before you decided to take a break. You could do the rest tomorrow. Right now you were tired and in need of rest.

The house you moved into wasn't all that bad. The walls were made up of a nice, soft brown wood that almost had a smokey contrast to it. The floors were a darker, more polished type of wood that surprisingly didn't creak every time you took a step. There were two bedrooms and one bathroom, plus the living room, kitchen and basement; safe and simple for you and your daughter. It wasn't the most perfect place, but it's the best of the cheapest you could find, and far away from that monster of a husband of yours.

Before you were able to make the down-payment, you were warned by several about all the strange, mysterious murders that have happened around these woods, especially the ones by Crystal Lake. People gone missing were found dead with large lacerations, stab wounds or even just crushed necks. The bank almost didn't let you make the payment but you insisted on it because this was your only opportunity to finally have a place away from worse things.

Besides, those kills were years ago and you were at least a mile away from the lake. What ancient monster guy with a machete was going to disembowel you and your kids? None, because he isn't real. Just like Bigfoot, you thought, he was a silly story made up to either scare people or make them all the more tempted to make stupid decisions. And if this monster guy was real, which you fully convinced yourself that he's not, then why would he want to murder you or your daughter?

If you thought about it deep down, you actually moved here because of all the scary stories and threatening posts. It wasn't just because the cabin was rented for cheap. You thought that maybe if you moved somewhere like this then your husband wouldn't try to find you, he wouldn't be tempted in any way to come half an inch near these haunted woods. If there was one thing your brutal x-husband feared, it was legends and myths, even if you knew they were all spit in the garbage.

"Mommy, can I go outside and unload the gardening stuff? Please?" your daughter asked, tugging on your dress slightly as to get your attention.

Lowering your book, you look down at her and smile, "Of course you can, sweetie, just stay where I can see you, alright? I don't want you wandering off on your own around here without me, okay?"

(d/n) nodded at you with an adorable smile as she clutched her own dress and tipped with excitement, "Yes, mommy."

"Alright, well I'm fixing to make dinner," You inform her, stroking her cheek after you sat up in your rocking chair, "Stay near the house, I'll come get you when it's ready."

"Thank you, mommy!" (d/n) nearly squealed as she jumped forward and wrapped her arms around you.

You hugged back, chuckling at her cuteness and love for hugs. "You're welcome, baby," you let her go, watching with soft eyes as she flew to the door and hobbled outside.

Poor thing. You thought with a frown. Your daughter never had many friends in school considering all the moving that you had done, and she barely knew anyone here at her new school. Of course you gave her all the time and love you could offer because, not only did she deserve it, she was the last thing you loved in life, the last thing you had left to cherish. The baby in your belly was special and you had no doubts that you would love him too, but sadly, you knew what costs it took to have him in the first place. And that's why you're here.

Standing up, you held your belly as you walked over to the closest window, peeking outside to see (d/n) walking around with her wagon dragging behind her. She knew that you would help her garden tomorrow, but today was just a day you needed time to relax for. A rush of guilt swarmed inside your heart. You had the sweetest, kindest, most understanding child in the world, and you knew with every speck of culpability that she didn't deserve this.

Sighing, you lowered the curtain back and headed into your kitchen, preparing to get a small supper ready before bed time. (d/n) would have to sleep with you in your bed tonight for you hadn't the strength to set hers up yet, but you didn't mind. There had been several nights when your daughter was scared, sad or just wanted to be in your reassuring company during the night. There was nothing to worry about.

She was safe.

* * *

(d/n) walked outside with a skip to her steps, gathering together all the gardening tools that had been unloaded after the trip. She couldn't wait for her mommy to feel better so that she could plant flower and vegetable seeds and make her own garden. Her father never liked gardening. He didn't even have a yard to garden in. But now that they had moved, (d/n) was happy with the nature and endless green the new land provided her with.

She smiled as she finished up packing everything in the wagon, looking pridefully up at the rickety old shack before her. The poor, old building looked half beaten to death, weathered down by several years of misuse, seasonal changes and bad weather conditions. But no matter the visual, it still held strong and (d/n) had no fears of going inside.

(d/n) happily opened the door with a friendly shove causing the hinges to groan in long since forgotten agony. She looked around, arms filled with packages of seeds and flower waterers. The building was better looking on the inside than it was out. The visual structure of the boards looked sturdy and well kept. The only thing out of place was a shelf in which was half fallen to the ground, but (d/n) was confident her mommy would help her get it fixed.

The little girl sat down the gardening seeds neatly into an organized pile on one of the standing shelves before going to place the flower waterers onto the hooks on the wall. Then she took some time to admire her work before bouncing off to get the hose, jet sprayer and shovels. If she were to have a garden, she would need proper gardening tools.

When she stepped outside, (d/n) heard something coming from behind the shed somewhere. It sounded like shuffling leaves and small snapping twigs.

Instead of being driven away by fear or anxiety, (d/n) was driven forward by curiosity and temptation. What if it was an animal that needed help? She couldn't just leave it behind. As her own little footsteps crunched gently against fallen leaves, the little girl hollered out a soft "Hello" before reaching the back edge of the shack and pausing.

There, standing outrageously tall in a dirty, dark brown jacket, grey shirt, black pants and big boots was possibly the hugest man (d/n) had ever seen in her life. He wore a scratched up, white mask that looked old and used past its limitations, and one of his gloved hands was hidden behind his back.

At first (d/n) shuffled a little in nervousness, but remembered what her mommy always told her; always be outgoing, honest and open. So she gathered up all her confidence and took a step forward, saying a somewhat confident, somewhat timid, "Hello...?"

The man looked down at her, his head tilting ever so slightly to the left as he stood there, miraculously still.

(d/n) continued on with her timid confidence, "My name is (d/n). Me and my momma just moved in here today. Are you our new neighbor?"

The man's head tilted a little bit more, his eyes squinting unnoticeably behind the dark holes of his mask. He studied the little girl who's attitude towards his own haggard, frightening appearance outmatched anyone else's that he had gotten to observe before. She stood there with a measured amount of curiosity, bravery and nervousness; the amount any young and innocent child should have. What got Jason the most though was that she kept all those child strengths whilst standing right before his very being.

In the lightest way possible, he nodded.

The little girl noticeably brightened, a wondrous toothless grin lapsing onto her adorable face. "Yay!" she hollered, hands coming together as she rushed forward to hug her new neighbor, "Momma said we didn't have any neighbors because we live so far out in the woods, but I'm so happy that we really do!"

Jason had jerked in startlement at the suddenness of the absolute and completely unexpected hug. On instinct, he dropped his machete behind his back the same time the little girl wrapped her little arms around his thick torso, hugging him tightly. His head lifted, throat feeling tight as he wondered what he should do. This situation had certainly veered into a totally different direction.

Besides the times his mother had hugged him when he was little, Jason had never been hugged before, especially by some little kid. He honestly didn't know how to feel about it. Most people screamed, jumped and ran away right at the sight of him. He was used to it by now. But... this little girl just seemed to be so... happy to meet him.

In his shock, Jason didn't get a chance to hug back before the little girl pulled away and grinned up at him. "Where do you live?" she asked.

Jason froze, unsure of how to answer that question. He lived everywhere. The woods was his home. A place that he swore to be rid of any trespassers. Any so called "neighbors" that even dared to come across his lands usually ended up with a great big gash through their melon. It was just... natural cause. A job almost.

But now...

Jason slowly lifted one hand in the direction of the old shed like house he sometimes spent cold nights in, still staring in complete astonishment at the little girl.

(d/n) had cutely lifted out her hands as she leaned forward to try and look past the trees. "That way?" she asked, looking back up just in time to see the big man nod, "Is it far?"

He nodded again.

"You didn't have to walk all that way, sir!" (d/n) said quickly and gestured back to her own house, "Momma would have drove us once she found out that we had neighbors. She's always happy to meet new people. Would you like to meet her too?"

Jason could understand a fraction of why this little girl wasn't scared of him, but adults were different. Adults were more aware of danger, were always afraid and aggressive. He remembered one time when he saw a little boy, about four or five years old, being hit so harshly that his screams rattled the very birds from their trees. The scene had angered him so badly that he killed, at least, the drunken father who hit him, but spared the grieving mother. He couldn't imagine life without a mother.

But no matter how sweet and open this little girl was, he didn't think she was ready to hear the screams that her own mother would most likely project if he did show himself. So he had no choice but to shake his head.

The little girl wilted slightly, a small pout crossing her once smiling face, "Why not?"

Jason merely bowed his head to the side.

After some silence, (d/n) took a step forward and asked with a much softer voice, "Are you scared?"

Jason hesitated, but eventually nodded. He wasn't scared of anyone, but he was scared of crushing a completely innocent child's trust and childhood by revealing his true person.

(d/n) smiled and took a step forward, "It's okay. A lot of people are afraid to meet new people. I'm not, but sometimes I do meet people who are mean, but you're nice! A-and if you want, we can be friends!"

Jason was so flummoxed he almost didn't know what to do. He had never been asked if he wanted to be friends with someone. It was practically foreign to him. However, he did nod.

"Really?" (d/n) asked excitedly before squealing in joy, "That's great! My names (d/n). What's yours?"

Jason had to wonder where all that bubbly cheer came from. He had never witnessed someone so happy to be friends with him. Did this little girl not know what danger looked like?

"What's wrong?" (d/n) asked in slight concern after the moment of silence lasted too long.

Jason then realized that the little girl had asked for his name. In his daze, he had completely forgotten that he had no way of telling her his name in return for her own which sounded really cute. Pouting behind his mask, he bowed his head and merely continued on with the silence.

(d/n) squinted her eyes and tilted her head, asking confusedly, "Can you not talk?"

Jason shook his head.

(d/n) released a little "oh" of realization before brightening back up like it was no big deal, "That's okay! We can still be friends."

Relieved, Jason nodded, secretly smiling behind his mask as he looked down at the adorable little girl.

She gripped her dress and grinned, looking so happy to have made a new friend, "I was just putting my gardening stuff up. Me and momma are gonna make a garden! I can't wait. Maybe you could help us sometime?"

Jason hesitated a moment before nodding stiffly. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to be involved with any activity involving (d/n) mother.

"Great!" the little girl squealed again before pointing to the wagon behind her, "I still need to get the hose in the shack and it's really heavy. Can you help me, please?"

Jason nodded, ready to follow the little girl to the shed until she suddenly came up to him and slipped her little hand into his own enormous, gloved one. The craziest amount of shock raced through him as he looked down at her in confusion and bewilderment. But the only thing he saw was her sweet toothless smile beaming up at him, melting him like mere ice.

He allowed (d/n) to lead him in the direction of the little red wagon sitting in front of the shed. And even though it only lasted about twenty seconds, the walk felt like years... Years of inexperienced joy. When (d/n) released his hand to kneel in front of the wagon, Jason found that his whole left arm felt warm and his empty heart was fluttering quickly.

"Here it is," (d/n) grunted as she set the coiled hose up right, "It's heavy. Wanna move it together?"

Jason knew he had the strength to lift probably ten hoses, but he couldn't deny those adorable, joyous little eyes. Nodding, he reached down and grabbed one side of the hose while (d/n) grabbed the other.

They lifted it together, carrying it into the shed and setting it down in its directed place. (d/n) was almost jumping with overjoy, "That was good! Thank you so much for helping! I still have a few shovels to grab if you'd like to help some more... you don't have to though."

Jason could have easily denied, but simply found, for the first time ever, that he didn't want to.

* * *

You opened the front door and called out to your daughter, waiting for her to holler back "just a minute!" before quietly shutting the door and walking back inside.

It didn't take long for her to come running inside, panting, and giggling ecstatically. Raising a brow, you barely had time to ask, "(d/n) what's gotten into-"

"I made a new friend!" she nearly shouted with joy.

You made a face of surprise, leaning down to what extent your belly would allow, "You did?"

"Yes, he's so nice, mommy! He helped me put the hose up!" (d/n) shuffled in excitement, gripping her dress and giggling happily.

"Oh really?" you asked, a smile on your face. (d/n) usually acted excited when she made new friends, but now she seemed way more... Overwhelmed. It was cute, but also a little concerning, "What's his name?"

"I don't know yet, he can't talk, and he's too scared to come inside so I told him that we could be friends until he was ready to meet you," (d/n) spoke so quickly you almost didn't understand her, "He's also our neighbor!"

You felt somewhat relieved that what your daughter described sounded more like an imaginary friend or animal. She had been quite disappointed when you told her that no neighbors lived close by, and you knew how she was about making up secret, imaginary friends. In fact, it made you nearly frown as you remembered one of her old imaginary friends. The kind daddy friend; a father figure that she had made up when she was six years old to help cope with the issues you all had been having. It broke your heart to pieces, and to this day it still hurt, but at least things were better now.

"That's so awesome, (d/n), I'm so happy that you made a new friend, and I can't wait to meet him," You place a hand on her shoulder and lead her to the kitchen, "Why don't you tell me all about him while we eat?"

(d/n) excitedly ran to the sink and washed her hands, "Well he can't talk and he's really, really big. I think he's a giant. And he wears a funny mask on his face, but he was still really nice. After he helped me with the hose he even helped me with the shovels-oh!- and he liked my hug!"

You had grown quiet as you sat down at the table, watching as your daughter dried her hands before waddling over to the seat beside you where her plate was. "A mask?" you asked, face going pale.

A guy, really big, can't speak, wears a mask, is your neighbor. It couldn't possibly be....?

"Yeah, it's kind of weird looking, but he's still really nice," (d/n) said casually like it wasn't a bother to her as she began eating, "I told him to come back tomorrow so that I could try and guess his name since he can't talk. I also think he wants to help out with the garden, but he's just a little shy..."

Shy, likes helping, wants to garden, is nice, and is your daughter's friend. Maybe it wasn't....?

"That's great, honey, he sounds really nice," you end up saying although you remain tense, worried about who this stranger really was or could be. And you really hoped it wasn't.

It took you too long to find this place; a place where you could settle down and not have to worry about anyone, especially your x-husband, having to hurt you. Sure, there were rumors about some sociopathic freak who liked killing people, but that was just a myth. You couldn't afford to worry about some befriended murderer who was out to kill you or your daughter. You couldn't afford to crush (d/n) heart by telling her to stay away, or tell her about the mythical Jason Voorhees either.

You sighed, listening to the sound of your daughter's future plans for the garden and her picture collection, trying to let her simplicity drown your riled nerves in its serenity, while in the back of your mind you hope to death that this new neighbor is just an imaginary friend.

Later that night after getting clean, brushing your teeth and changing into your nightgowns, you finished reading your daughter a bed time story, stroking her silky hair as she laid her head beside your belly and felt your baby bump. Ever since she learned that you could feel movement inside, feeling your belly was one of her most favorite things to do. She was fascinated by it, and she couldn't wait to have a new brother.

"Momma?" (d/n) asked tiredly.

"Yes, baby?" you tilt your head as you reach for the lamp and grab her favorite toy from the nightstand.

She groaned slightly after the lights went out but still remained planted against your belly. "Do you think dad would have loved my new baby brother... just... different than how he loves me?"

The question went right to your heart. You frowned, overcome by a strong wave of sadness as you clenched the covers with one hand and pull her closer with the other. "No, I don't, (d/n), I think he would have loved you both the same," you admit even though it felt wrong, "Your dad wasn't a good man, honey, he was... he just didn't know how to love right... That's why we left."

"He said he wanted a boy all the time. Maybe since you have one he'll be nice again?" she whispered and pressed her ear to your swollen tummy.

You felt your heart aching, "Daddy wanted a boy so he could make him be just like him. But you're not like him, (d/n) and neither is this baby. Daddy may love you differently, but me... I love you too infinity and beyond."

(d/n) giggled and looked up at you with a small smile, and even though she looked happy, you could still see the sadness in her eyes as she sat up and moved to the empty spot beside you. Handing her favorite toy over, you reached down and kissed her cheek, looking down at her moon lit face and whispering, "I love you, baby."

"Love you too, mommy," she said, clutching her toy to her chest and snuggling into the blankets.

You take a moment to just look over her, thinking about her feelings and how this whole experience had affected her. You knew that she always used to think that her father hated her, which deep down you knew that he did, but you tried to enlighten her by saying that he simply loved her differently. It wasn't the greatest cover-up. You knew that and she knew that, but it hurt you both too much to accept the truth.

With a little sigh you tucked her in and laid down on your back, clutching your full belly and wondering how on earth you were going to figure all this out.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning whenever you had woken up, you were almost torn out of your bed by your anxiously excited daughter. "Alright, I'm comin', I'm comin'," you grumbled enthusiastically under your mess of hair, yawning.

"After I brush my teeth will you do my hair, please?" Your daughter asked, her voice a rush as she bounced at the end of the bed.

"Yes, dear" You answered, rubbing the crusted sleep from your eyes and stretching, yawning once again as you listened to your daughter's excited giggles fade away into the bathroom.

Opening your eyes and squinting at the glare of morning sunshine seeping in through your window, you cursed not putting any curtains up yesterday, but the dew covered world outside looked peaceful and beautiful. The sound of birds chirping both polite and aggressively was so much more calming than the obnoxious honking and blowing sirens you used to listen to everyday in the city. Even the decay of wood this house was made out of refreshed some of your nerves as you sat up and pushed the fallen hair from your eyes.

Then your mental list started. Today you had to finish unpacking and setting up (d/n) room. It was the weekend so you didn't have to worry about school or work until Monday, thank goodness. No matter what though, you had to get started on the garden with (d/n) soon. She had been asking for a garden ever since she was able to talk, and you hated having to deny her then, but you wouldn't now.

Reaching for your nightstand, you grabbed your comb and started to brush away all the bed time tangles from your messy hair, eyes still shut in the last moments of diminishing sleep. Last night had been a good night; one with no nightmares, no anxieties and no sudden, weird cravings that tore you out of bed at night and dragged you to the kitchen.

"Haha! You look like Chewbacca, momma!" Your daughter giggled as she walked into the bedroom, brush in one hand and ponytail holders in the other.

You gave her a brief glare as you continued combing your own hair, but eventually ended up grinning. "Well, you don't look so different yourself, huh?" you asked with a chuckle.

(d/n) had on her favorite cartoon shirt, rainbow embroidered overalls and her sparkly rainboots, however, her hair was a mess like yours, and that made you smile.

"Hey, I was waiting on you," She gave a silly pout and walked up to the bed.

You gave another chuckle and sat up, pulling your legs close and patting the space in front of you. Placing your comb aside, you wait for her to sit up on the bed before taking her brush and getting started on her hair. "Excited to garden, I see," You say with a warm smirk on your face, "You know I need to make breakfast first, right?"

"I know," (d/n) answered respectfully as she kept still, making little 'ow' noises when a particular tangle was brushed out, "But my new friends gonna help me, so I can wait."

You tensed slightly, pausing as you remembered this new imaginary friend of your daughters; the giant, shy, masked man who likes to help garden.... "(d/n)?" You started back on her hair, finishing up with the tangles and staring at her beautiful curls.

"Yes, momma?" She looked at you, her bright, sparkling eyes so naive and full of wonder. Wonder you could not deny.

You gave a small self sigh and divided her hair into two sections, requesting softly that she look back forward as you worked on one set of braids. "You know there's going to be plenty of new opportunities for you to make friends at school. Ones that you can invite over and play with in your new garden and... And stuff like that," You say, braiding one side of her hair and reaching out to get the ponytail holder ready.

"I know, mommy," (d/n) answered, "But I like my new friend. He's nice and likes to garden and I promised that I would try to guess his name today. I can't leave him."

Your heart clenched deep inside your chest as you finished up tying one of her braids. "I understand, sweetie, but remember, you don't know him that well yet, and I want you to be careful when you're around him," You said and started braiding the other side, "If you see him doing anything suspicious or scary then I want you to come straight inside and tell me, alright?"

"Yes, mommy."

"And if he tries to hurt you, then I want you to scream, ok? Scream as loud as you can and I'll be right there, alright?" You say in slight earnest, because you're afraid of who this stranger was and what he could do.

"Yes, mommy," (d/n) had been through these talks before several times in the past. She knew what to do in case of danger. "I don't think he'll hurt me though... he's too nice."

You made a face, a big part of you hoping that this man was just an imaginary friend and not some mythical monster brought to life in the horror of real life.

After you finished braiding (d/n) hair, you watch as she blasted out of the room excitedly in a fit of giggles and impatient footsteps. You follow her out, your nightgown brushing the wooden floor as you stopped upon the window of the front room and gazed outside. Besides your daughter who skipped around the expansive yard, picking up some spare twigs that were in the way of the paths she was going to make, there was no one around. You keep looking however, gazing past the shed, into the trees and down the road, searching for anything in particular that might be suspicious.

The more you looked, the less intense the insecurities in your chest felt. There wasn't anything that seemed to be out of place, your daughter seemed to be minding her own business pulling her wagon around and picking up sticks. You smiled, your heart warming. After breakfast you'd go help her set everything up for her new garden. Right now you were going to get changed and ready to start on your day's first meal.

* * *

(d/n) spent some time picking up sticks and wandering around wondering where she was going to make good columns for her vegetables. The big friendly man hadn't shown up yet, which was a rather significant disappointment, but the little girl tried to make these moments count in order of passing by time.

Picking up branches sticks and large rocks that were in the way, (d/n) cleared most of the yard of it's obscurities before heading to the shed to take out the hose. First she tossed the sprinkler into the wagon before frowning at how high set up the hose was on the wall. She'd need a step-stool to get that thing down, but seeing as how she didn't have one, (d/n) stepped as close to the wall as possible, got to her tippy-toes and grunted as she tried reaching for the hose.

She could touch the bottom of it easily, but she was having trouble lifting it. Pushing with her fingers, (d/n) emitted little noises of distress trying to lift the heavy hose set up. Luckily for her, though, she didn't need to try anymore as big, gloved hands suddenly joined her, helping her to lift the hose.

(d/n) gasped in surprise, "It's you!" She smiled in joy and anticipation whenever she looked back, watching the big man set the hose down before running up to him and giving him a hug, "I was so worried you wouldn't come! But I'm happy you did!"

Jason, this time, hugged back, gently. He laid his arms around the little girl's upper back and held her close for a few seconds before feeling her pull away. He looked down at her, seeing the gaps in her smile and thinking about how old she must be. He remembered being that old, but it wasn't a very good memory. Kids around Camp Crystal Lake were usually little seen or heard about. It was mostly no good teenagers and troublemakers who came here, and they needed to be taught their place. But right now... Jason didn't feel the need to do that.

"I'm getting ready to start my garden. Mommas making breakfast right now, so you don't have to worry," (d/n) smiled and flipped one of her braids back behind her ears.

Jason tilted his head at the sight of her neatly fashioned hair, remembering a few times whenever his mom used to style her hair in the same way. It was something that brought out a disturbing feeling in his heart and yet a massive amount of warmth enveloped him at the same time. He lifted a finger, slowly, reaching out and gently brushing the little girl's small, danty braid.

(d/n) giggled bashfully and reached up to hold her braid, "Oh, my braids. Do you like them?"

Jason nodded, retreating his big hand and tilting his head.

The little girl shuffled, her cheeks a small, amusing pink as she gripped her braid and said softly, "My momma did them for me. She always does my hair. Maybe sometime I can show you how she does it. It's really fun. I'm still learning too, but I can do ponytails on my own now."

The little girl's prideful smile at the end was enough to make even Jason's lips curve behind his emotionless mask. He nodded his head, wondering how something so simple as a missing tooth smile and bubbly giggles could make his cold, empty heart soar through the storming clouds of his thick chest.

"Oh! I almost forgot your name," (d/n) gasped, grasping her head in a small panic before looking around, "Umm... Let me think-umm... What's the first letter?"

Jason looked down at the little girl, noticing how her toothless, beaming grin turned from its iridescent cheerfulness to deep concentrating focus. He wasn't the best man on the levels of high education, but he still knew the basics every second grader should know. His alphabet wasn't something he really needed in his life, but he could still remember enough to at least taste the first letter on his tongue.

After he nodded, (d/n) gave off a daring smile and began, "Is it 'A'?"

Jason shook his head.

"'B'?"

Another shake.

(d/n) could only get to 'E' before she was interrupted.

"(d/n)? Breakfast is ready!" Came a sudden holler from the house, "Where are you?"

"Coming momma!" (d/n) quickly hollered out the door of the shed, waving at her momma before turning to look at her friend, "I'm sorry I can't finish right now, I'll try to be fast so I can finish guessing. Can you stay a few minutes longer? You don't have to if you don't want to...."

As if he had anything better to do. Jason nodded, unable to resist those hopeful eyes and adorable pout. He jerked when the little girl nearly fell into him, hugging him like some sort of giant teddy bear. (d/n) must really, really like hugs. Not that Jason minded, but he wasn't always good on the reaction times. He barely had enough time to hug back before she was pulling away, saying joyously, "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I'll be quick okay? Do you want anything to eat?"

Jason merely shook his head, but the little girl's adorable pout almost made him tempted to accept.

"Alright," She said softly, a noticeable disappointment in her voice, but she still brightened, "I'll be back in a few minutes. Is it alright if you stay here?"

Jason nodded.

* * *

You had just sat down at the dinner table whenever you're daughter came in, her excited footsteps a soothing song across the old wooden floor boards. You had checked on her almost fifteen times, peeking at her from out the window, making sure she was alone and no one hurt her. She had been okay so far, simply cleaning the yard up and getting it ready for her new garden. No one in sight to be considered a threat or even a giant, shy, friend with a mask.

"Momma, he came back!" (d/n) said ecstatically as she skipped into the kitchen, her braids loosened and boots damp from the morning grass.

"Did he?" You asked, trying to sound as excited as she did, but you were uncomfortably fretting on the inside, your stomach aching with intuition.

(d/n) slipped into the seat beside you after washing her hands and getting her drink, almost spilling it with how fast she was going. You raised your brows at her, thinking about how she honestly shouldn't be this excited over something so... imaginative.

"Yes and I'm so happy, momma! I was worried he wouldn't come back," (d/n) took a quick drink from her cup before getting started on her food, "He's so nice, but I wish he could talk... I'm trying to guess his name now."

"Oh really?" You try to act interested, but your stomach was in knots and your throat felt tight. Apatite down the drain as you poked gently at your untouched food. "Are you guessing names or letters or... what?"

"I'm going by the alphabet," She answered with simplicity, stuffing her mouth full as quickly as she could, shuffling around in her seat like a surprise birthday party was about to commence.

You blinked a few times, feeling your clenching heart throb with desperation for hope, "And how far did you get?"

"To 'E'," (d/n) took another drink and wiped her mouth before pointing her sparkling eyes at you, "But I gotta hurry or else he'll leave."

"But you aren't even half ways finished, honey," You pointed out, looking at your daughter's plate with a concerned frown.

(d/n) shoulders lifted in a shrug of protection and poutiness, "I know, but... I promised I would hurry. He'll leave if I don't..."

"If your new friend can't have the patience to wait on you to eat, then perhaps he isn't that good of a friend to begin with," You point out and stand up, pointing a finger at her and saying firmly, "I have to go to the bathroom and I want you to finish eating, alright?"

(d/n) face looked a little crestfallen and sad, but you knew she understood. You weren't anything close to mad or disappointed with her, but you did want her to listen. She needed to eat. There was no sense in going hungry just because of some imaginary friend.

You tell her that you love her and would be back in a few minutes, standing up from the table and walking out the kitchen. You glanced behind you on the way as you quietly make it to the front door, looking out into the yard. The morning sunlight lit up your face and a nice, soothing breeze grazed your body as you step upon the porch. Birds chirped and sang happily, and bugs flew pleasantly from place to place.

However, your heart was thumping with anticipation as your eyes searched the premises, looking for any traces of a masked murderer. Stepping down the stairs to the porch, you gazed left and right, scanning the trees for any signs of a tall, dark, menacing figure. However, you remembered your daughter waving at you from the shed and make a careful, alerting beeline to get there. You slowed, the world becoming a blurry rush as the shed grew bigger and bigger before your very eyes.

As you stood just a few feet from it, you suddenly realize that you had been holding your breath and now you're chest was aching with more than just anticipation. You trembled, hand lifting and reaching out to grasp the cool, rusted surface of the door handle. Once your fingers hooked the spent material, your heart jumped as you yanked it open.

Your eyes going wide.

You look from left to right before freezing. Nothing. There was no one in here. You did a double-check, making sure that the shed was absolutely one- hundred percent empty and not occupied by some giant, scary, masked monster. After you conclude that it was in fact empty, you circled around the shed before walking back inside, your heart calming.

By the time you got back inside, took in a few easing breaths, you noticed that your daughter had finished most of her food and was now scampering around the kitchen trying to throw away her scraps and put the dishes in the sink. She looked like a chicken; giddy, excited, cluttering around like the cramped world of her cage could never be more open. You wilted on the inside, sad that the only thing that was causing such tremendous joy in (d/n) was a masked imaginary friend who's description sounded no different than the mass killer Jason Voorhees.

"(d/n)..." You took a few steps into the kitchen, clutching the back end of a chair until your knuckles turned pale, "We need to get your room set up some time today before going to the bank."

Your daughter stopped setting her dishes down and turned to look at you, her face concerned and a little bit pouty. "But what about the garden...?"

You smiled, "We can get started on it. I just want you to know that we can't spend all day out there, alright?"

"I know, momma," Your daughter dried her hands off and grinned, "But maybe one day we can! We can get a tent and some firewood- oh!- and those chocolate candy things you like so much- it would be fun!"

You chuckled, your hair falling into your face as relief filled your heart... for a moment.

"And we can invite my new friend! I bet he'd love to help get firewood- oh I forgot, I need to finish guessing his name!" (d/n) immediately rushed past you like a birthday party stood just outside the door, only turning to give you a small questioning look, "Are you coming, momma?"

"What?" You mumbled, caught up in a moment as you thought about this mysterious friend of your daughters. But you straightened your posture and get back into gear, "Oh-uh-yes, dear. I'll be out in a few minutes. Just uh... just gotta get some boots on and stuff."

"Ok," Your daughter said cheerfully like it was no trouble whatsoever, skipping around and hollering from the living room, "I'm gonna go talk to my new friend. Bye!"

You tensed, shaking your head as you fought back hard the tension coming from this imaginary friend. That's all it could be, right? Just an imaginary friend. Of course you don't know how (d/n) description of such a made up thing could match so perfectly against Camp Crystal Lake's deadly killer, but it wouldn't make sense if it actually was him. Jason Voorhees is not friendly or shy or helpful, he doesn't like to garden and he doesn't like to play games.

Maybe your daughter had seen pictures of him from some media at school? Not very likely, you thought with a grimace, most kids that age didn't know anything about murderers from other states, but it still gave you a twinge of hope. Perhaps she got details of the mysterious killer and made up her own version. Maybe she saw someone dressed up like him for Halloween or something. There were adds on the internet stating about how Camp Crystal Lake was safe and that there were no casualties, usually acted out by some silly man with a hockey mask on and a machete pointing at the words playing on the screen.

There were so many thoughts, some rational and some plain nonsense, but they were all the hope you had left to cling to.

So with a hefty sigh, you wander off to the boxes stacked in your closet, getting ready to start the garden with your daughter and her, hopefully, imaginary friend.

* * *

When (d/n) went back outside, practically running, she bounced into the shed with overwhelming glee, "I'm back! And I-hey...." She stopped, her eyes widening, looking around the empty shed, "Where'd you go?"

She walked in a few steps, gazing at the shelves and wooden crates before turning around and heading back outside. "Hello?" she called, her fingers lightly fidgeting with her overalls as she stepped down from the shed, looking out at all the empty landscape, "Hello? Are you still there?"

Her eyesbrows arched up and her heart began to wobble. "My mommas still inside, I... It's just me now so you're safe to come out."

(d/n) looked from left to right and all around, her hollow ears listening for the hopeful sound of something. She stopped turning, her eyes growing glossy with tears as she came to a stop and hollered out one more, small, broken "H-hello" before sniffing and covering her eyes.

"I-huh!-just wanted to-to make a new friend," she cried softly into her hands, about ready to sink to her knees before a large, warm hand touched her shoulder.

(d/n) gasped and whirled around only to come face to belly with the masked man. She sniffed, her eyes still heavy with tears but chest instantly lifted of the loneliness and pain. "I-it's you," her smile wobbled and she wiped her eyes and nose, "I-I thought you left..."

Jason shook his head, surprised that someone would be so sad of his absence that they cried. It was something that did things unknown to the broken vessel in his chest and made his head feel as light as the clouds. He also felt bad for making the little girl cry. He didn't mean to.

(d/n) sniffed a few more times before finally clearing all the tears away and smiling brightly. "I'm glad you didn't. I still wanna guess your name," She watched him nod and felt so much better, "Where'd we end off? 'G'?"

Jason nodded. They actually ended at 'E' but it wasn't like a two letter difference mattered anyway. It was worth it to see that toothless smile and those happily contrasting eyes beam up at him like a loving spotlight.

"Yay! Alright, so, um... 'H'?" (d/n) heart began to thump with excitement as she continued on with her word hunt, clearly determined to find out what she could.

Jason shook his head, his body still and calm in the cool spring winds.

"'I'?"

He shook his head again, far from frustrated or even annoyed. In fact, he was envious, enlightened, maybe even happy that someone of such innocence was so excited to learn his name without the presence of fear getting in the way.

"'J'?"

Jason nodded.

"Really?" (d/n) asked again, her tone serious before exploding with joy. "Really?! Oh my-yay! We found out the first letter!"

She giggled, her feet shifting excitedly as she grinned up at the giant man. Jason's disfigured lips nearly curved as he watched and listened to all her expressed joy. It filled the air like a summer melody. Beautiful and happy.

"Now I just have to guess your name," (d/n) then straightened herself and grasped her chin, thinking about all the names she knew that started with 'J'. "Is it... Jakub?"

Jason shook his head.

"Jeffrey?" The little girl watched the tall man's head shake, "How about Jonathan or Jack?"

Another shake.

"Johnny?" She smiled and drug her foot across the ground, "Jerald?"

Jason wondered if she'd ever find out.

"Jackson?" (d/n) then tried to remember other names she had heard from school or other public places before remembering the one name of some character her mommy liked from a movie, "George?"

Jason wouldn't have the heart to tell her that that wasn't a 'J' letter word even if he could speak.

"Jason?"

Jason paused, his head lifting.

"Wait, is that it? Jason? Is that your name?" (d/n) heart felt like bouncy balls going down the stairs as she stared up at the big man as he nodded, squealing ecstatically afterwards, "Really! Yay, I know your name now! Hi Jason!"

Jason did smile to the best of his abilities, because it was irresistible against the muscles of his deformed face.

"My names (d/n) and my mommas name is (y/n)," The little girl said although she had already introduced herself yesterday, but she just couldn't help herself. "We just moved here from (state/country). I... I'm glad we get to be neighbors. Have you always lived here?"

Jason took in the information like a book lover reading the newest trending selection of novels. He nodded, knowing that the little girl might wanna go in for another round of guessing games.

"That's cool!" (d/n) said happily and gazed around, "This place is really pretty. I like it! Good for gardening and stuff. Do you have a garden?"

Jason shook his head stiffly. His mom had a garden once. She'd let him water the plants sometimes, and go out to pick ripe veggies. It was fun in those days. But their garden was destroyed and all the memories and love with it.

(d/n) gestured to her empty columns, "Would you like to help me make one now? I've got all kinds of flowers and vegetables. Momma even bought me a baby apple tree- won't that be fun to plant?"

Jason nodded and looked to the empty spots in the grass where he imagined the plants would grow.

"You should meet my momma- she's really nice. She's the one who taught me to make new friends! Oh-and she's pregnant too, I-I'm gonna have a little brother! Isn't that awesome?" (d/n) squealed, grabbing her braids in exhilaration.

Jason perked. Her mother was pregnant? With a boy? Where was the father then? How come Jason had heard so much about (d/n) mother but not her father? Was he dead, divorced, or separate or something? His good eye squinted.

"I love hugging mommy's belly. You can actually feel the baby move; isn't that cool?" She made wild gestures with her hands like the whole speech was positively mind blowing.

Such simplicity should never be so wasted upon someone like himself, Jason thought with a nod. A smile still on his marred face.

A smile that soon disappeared whenever (d/n) turned around and said, "Oh! There's momma right now!"

* * *

You had gotten on your rain boots and were now trying to adjust the headband around your head as you walked out into the heat of the day. It wasn't too bad. The morning sunshine was crisp and humid and the wind played as a relaxing blanket against your sensitive skin. As you stepped down from your porch, staring at the ground as you turned the headband a different direction, your daughter came up skipping and jumping.

"Momma, I found out his name!" (d/n) nearly shouted with overwhelming joy.

You mustered a smile through the aggravation of your headwear before finally deciding to take it off and leave it for good. "That's awesome, honey," You look down at her with warmth in your expression, "What is-"

"Its Jason!" She lifted out her hands as she said it, her body nearly vibrant with excitement.

Excitement you couldn't feel, especially when you looked up and saw (d/n) imaginary friend standing just a few meters away from you.


	3. Chapter 3

Your heart felt as if it had just fallen straight into the disbelieving acids of your stomach. Fear etched its way into every bone in your body as you stared at none other than Camp Crystal Lake's mythical killer Jason Voorhees. He stood there, barely even ten feet away, his ginormous body slump and unmoving. His head was tilted, expression unknown behind that old, scarred mask in which haunted hundreds. 

"Aren't you happy, momma? I found out his name!" (d/n) squealed and jumped around, clearly excited and proud of herself for finding out his identity.

You smiled although very fake and wobbly, your eyes watering and body beginning to tremble softly. Despite being only ten feet before a stone cold killer, you hadn't the capability to even think about screaming or protesting. After all, he was your daughter's friend. Memories of everything she had told you came back in hard force. And if it was all true, then you'd try to keep it that way no matter how the outcome affected you. 

"That's my momma, (y/n), she's very nice," (d/n) obliviously looked to her new friend while gesturing to you, and you try as hard as you possibly can to keep the wrenching smile on your face, "And that's my new baby brother I was telling you about! Wanna feel?" 

Your eyes widened at the words and your body jostled, however, you had little time to protest whenever a big, warm hand was pressed snug against the bulge of your belly. You choked back a scream, eyes stinging with tears as chills raked down your spine. You see that your daughter was the one who pulled the killer over to you, but you couldn't have the heart to be mad. This wasn't the first time she had made a stranger feel your belly bump. That said, it was the first time that a killer had felt it. 

You stare at the ground, fists unknowingly gripping the sides of your shirt as hard as they could, knuckles white. You feared pain at any moment, or maybe even some random, hard punch to the stomach to kill both you and your baby. You swallowed, a lump of a thousand screams and cries held inside your dry throat. 

"Momma? What's wrong? Are you alright?" Your daughter asked, reaching her hands up to place over Jasons as if to add "comfort" to your disheveled form. 

"N-nothin' baby," You wobble your lips until they curved into a smile although it still trembled as you look down at her, eyes swollen and wide. "I told you, sometimes momma gets a little emotional..." You reassure and look away, whispering a small, timid, "That's all." 

"I'll go get you Mr. Tubbles and a tissue then!" (d/n) inquired quickly and rushed past you and her new friend. 

You nodded, biting your lip and shaking before finally looking up at the killer. His hand slipped away from your belly filling you with only minor relief. "You're Jason Voorhees... aren't you?" You asked with a sad smile, because in this situation, sadness and fear were all you could feel. 

Jason nodded. 

You nod your head, lips turned red from how hard you kept biting them. "Are you going to hurt (d/n)?" You ask, tears finally spilling down your face when he shook his head. A small, shaky breath was sucked in as you gaze back at the ground, expecting a hit, stab or sudden lunge to the body. 

But felt none. 

"I'm back!" Your daughter came racing to your side, holding up a few mangled tissues and a tan and white teddy bear, "Here you go, momma! I hope Mr. Tubbles makes you feel better." 

"Th-thank you, sweetie," Your words were whispered in cherishing love as you hug your daughter, kneeling down to press your face into her soft hair, breathing in her comforting scent. You stay like that for some time, as if thinking of it as a way to protect her from every ugly force this world had to throw on you. 

"If you want to, momma, you can go sit down. Jason will help me start," Your daughter muffled against your chest.

Slowly, hesitantly, you release her, looking down at her with a sad, worried smile. You wanted to help her garden, truly you did, but right now your heart was beckoning and your blood pressure felt through the roof insane. You needed to sit down. Just sit down and cry and cry and cry. You already escaped one monster. Did another really have to waltz on into your life?

"Are you sure, baby?" You ask softly. 

(d/n) grinned and gestured to her friend, "Yep! Jason's so nice. He'll help me, won't you Jason?" 

You squint your eyes when you saw him walking closer out of the corner of your eye. On instinct, you grab (d/n) hand and hold it tightly, gently pulling her against your body, wrapping the other arm around her. Looking up, your heart was churning. Honestly, you were getting a small migraine, but neither one of those stopped you from protecting the only family you had. 

You expected him to charge, to stomp, to rip forward and tear your daughter away. Which is why you were so surprised when he merely lifted his bare hand out before you and your daughter. (d/n) tugged on your arm in anticipation, shooting a toothless grin of questioning your way. 

You gripped her hand tightly before leaning down to whisper, "Stay where I can see you, alright? I'll be on the porch." 

"Yes mommy," She nodded, turning her iridescent eyes away from you and towards Jason, lifting her hand out. 

Gently, in the most non-sociopathic way possible, Jason wrapped his hand around (d/n) and patiently waited for her to lead the way back to the shed. 

You watch, clutching the teddy bear hard in your hands as tears weld up in your eyes. He was being nice, that much was true. But for how long would he be nice? _Why_ was he being nice? Jason Voorhees was a killer. A cold stone killer. You knew. You read the stories, you checked the wiki. It was all there. It was all the proof you needed. Your legs, as if turned to jelly, wobbled as you turned around and headed back to the porch, stiffly sitting down on the wooden steps, never once taking an eye off your daughter. 

(d/n) had grabbed her pink crochet basket and was now showing each deal of seeds she possessed to the killer who leaned down with what appeared to be interest in his position. It was as if he was actually listening, like he wanted to garden. (d/n) lifted up two separate packets of seeds. You had no idea which kind, but watched as Jason pointed to one. (d/n) smiled, clearly agreeing with his choice. It was surprisingly sweet, but very hard to take in given the fact that he was a killer.

You swallowed again, hugging the teddy bear close to your chest. 'Mr. Tubbles' was a gift, a little fluffy, brown plush bear your daughter picked out when she was sick with a cold one year. The little toy held a red pillow like heart in his paws that said 'love' on it. You both made it a habit to keep him close whenever either one of you didn't feel good or were upset. In the past you usually just simply sat the bear aside, making sure he was near so to appease your daughter, but now... Now you were actually glad the stuffed animal was with you, for you had nothing else to anchor yourself with.

A mountain of building dread formed in every part of your body, weighing you down even more. You watch your daughter as she dug through the plastic toolbox, pridefully picking out a small shovel while Jason kneeled beside her, holding the seeds carefully in his hands. How could a killer even act that way? You wonder, thinking about all the stories you had heard and read. And since you just discovered proof that it was all real, you also wondered what you were going to do now.

You chose this home for a great number of reasons. It was very far away from where you lived in the city, the rent was incredibly flexible, it was peaceful and in what seemed to be a sheltered environment. You knew there were myths about some sociopathic freak who lived here, killing young campers and beheading people at random, but you had brushed all that probability away. Your husband hated things and places that were possessed, haunted or had terrible histories, so you thought it'd keep him away should he ever discover your location. The house itself was very nice, but also very cheap and that was only because of how close it was to the Crystal Lake and the source of the killer Jason Voorhees. There were simply too many reasons to stay. Your daughter wanted a garden and safety and this was the perfect place.

That being said, you weren't so sure of it's safety now that you knew Jason Voorhees was real. It was only a matter of time before something bad happened and things went beyond your control. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was here, in your yard helping your daughter garden with such kindness, you would have been running away screaming, calling the cops and fleeing for your lives. It was (d/n) happiness that kept your considerate side up, but still you were very reluctant.

You'd need to have a talk.

It was almost noon when you had finally stood up after watching your daughter and her new friend dig up holes and plant seeds together. She had giggled and played around, flinging dirt in the air and smelling flowers. It was heart warming, and you were abashed to say the same for Jason who actually flung dirt back at her sometimes, smelt flowers she handed him and offered to dig through tougher, more dry dirt. They had taken turns with the shovel and planted seeds one at a time. It was something to be described as bittersweet and ridiculous. You called out for her. It was lunch time.

(d/n) took at least five minutes before bouncing on up to the porch, her overalls covered in dirt as well as her exposed arms, boots and even her face. It was adorable. You smiled a sad smile, reaching your hand out to take hers. "Did you have fun?" You ask, your voice soft for it was hard to muster strength for enthusiasm.

(d/n) grinned and nodded excitedly. "Mhm! Jasons so nice, momma, he helped me dig holes and carry the hose and bury seeds. He chose the watermelon kind- I love watermelon! I can't wait for them to grow." She seemed to relax after her fit of joy, slumping into a hug with you and ya'lls teddy bear, "Did Mr. Tubbles make you feel any better?"

"Yes," You answer, eyes flicking up slightly to catch a glimpse of your daughter's friend, saying down to her, "I feel much better, thank you... Now, are you hungry after all that... fun?"

"Mhm," (d/n) held her belly and pouted, "Starving."

"Why don't you help me out in the kitchen, hmm? I'm making pancakes," You whispered with a subtle nod at the end, because you knew how much your daughter loved making pancakes.

As you hoped, (d/n) eagerly nodded and gripped her braids in excitement. "I love pancakes! Can Jason come too? I bet he'd love to cook!" She twirled in a circle, seeming as if she were having the time of her life. 

It took all your effort not to frown. It was one thing to garden outside where there was plenty of room and space. It was entirely another thing to go inside where it was personal, cramped and not quite enough room to run away. "Now sweetie," You rub your lips together, "I wouldn't rush things with him."

"But I'm not rushing..." She pouted, arms slumping, "I just wanna see if he'd like to cook. That's all... It'd be rude to leave him alone while we eat."

Immediately you palm your forehead. Curse teaching your daughter such incredible manners. "Alright," You sigh in defeat, arm lowering, "Go ask him, but just... make sure you give him the option, ok? I know you like Jason but sometimes it's best to let friendships take their own time to grow."

She nodded and ran off like a dog would to catch a stick. You watch, your head tilting. It had been years since you'd seen your daughter become so emotionally attached to someone like this. Of course she made friends at school but she never had the chance to invite them over or even spend a night at their houses for your husband was cruel and controlling and you wanted her safe. You hope she'll make friends here. Anything to get her away from that monster....

It only took but a couple minutes before your daughter was walking back up the steps, wilted. Your chest relieved of some pressure. "He didn't wanna come... he's too scared." She mumbled.

Your nose rose in a confused snicker. "Scared?" You repeat. Jason Voorhees, _scared_? Of what?

"Yeah, I don't know why. He just doesn't wanna come up here and when I asked if he was scared he said yes," She sagged, her lips pouting, "Why's he scared, momma?"

You pause for a moment and look up. Jason was walking away now, past the shed. You watch him for a moment, your confusion morphing in with curiosity and suspicion. "I don't know," You draw out before looking to your daughter, "Maybe we'll find out later. Right now, I really think we should have a talk."

"About what?" (d/n) asked as she followed you inside the house, curiously watching you as you locked the door and sagged back against it with a large sigh.

You open your eyes in which still stung from the tears you had shed earlier and realize that your head was hurting on the left side of your temple. Brilliant. You groan inside your mind. You really needed to use the restroom. A cold drink would be nice too. Tea, water or even kool-aid. Whatever was the most refreshing.

"(d/n)," But now was not the time for Tylenol, bathroom breaks or drinks. Now was the time to settle scores between you, your daughter and her new friend. "I want you to stay away from Jason."

"What?!" Your daughter squealed in disbelief, her hands coming to her face like she had seen a ghost, "Why?"

You push yourself away from the door and hold your head, walking towards the couch with Mr. Tubbles hanging limply from your other hand. "Because I said so, (d/n)," You say firmly, tiredly, trailing your weight with every hard step, "You don't know anything about that man- I mean just look at him- he looks like a monster."

"No he doesn't. Jasons nice and he's helpful and he likes to garden," Your daughter defended herself, stomping up behind you where you hung your head in front of the couch, "You told me that to make friends you have to be open. Jason isn't a monster, he's my friend."

"For how long though?" You ask, finally turning to look at her with ridiculousness scattered across your face, "You don't know what he's capable of, dear. For all you know, he could be taking advantage of you."

"No. Jason wouldn't do that to me!" (d/n) fists clenched at her sides and her eyes watered, "He's nice, momma! He helped me garden!"

"That doesn't matter!" You retort forcefully because you just want her to be safe. Yes, her defenses and tears stung your heart, but it would sting even more if you let these things go unsaid and something bad actually did end up happening to her, "No matter how nice he acts, he could hurt you at any moment."

"No he wouldn't! Jasons not like that!" (d/n) sobbed and cried out, "He won't hurt me like dad did!"

The words put you on silent, the pain from such went straight down into your heart. You stand back as if you had been shot by a poisonous arrow, your eyes clouded in a small glare of hurt and realization. You remain frozen. You both did. (d/n) stood there covering her face, crying softly into her dirty hands. Soon enough the silence once comforting turned squeamish, and you kneeled down in front of her after sitting the teddy bear on the couch, reaching out your arms to pull her close.

"Oh sweetie," You whispered as she buried herself into your chest, "Daddies gone now. He can't hurt you anymore."

(d/n) mourned into your chest, hugging you tightly as if she thought that the real monster was just outside the window. She didn't say anything. It was concerning. You frown, stroking up her back and through her hair. This was really tearing you in half.

You wilt. "Maybe..." You say in hesitant thoughtfulness, "Maybe you can invite him around some time. But only to garden, ok?"

"O-h-huh-k," (d/n) hiccuped into your chest, only pulling away when you encouraged her by the shoulders.

"Grab Mr. Tubbles and go get changed, alright?" You nod, wiping away her tears with your thumbs.

With what appeared to be saddening gratitude on her face, (d/n) nodded and breathed out a shaky exhale before walking to grab her teddy bear and head upstairs to her room. You watched her go, feeling the anchor of your heart splashing hopelessly in the confined pits of your stomach. This was too much. You grab your head. This was just way too much. You close your eyes, resting your head against the wall.

How were you ever going to pull through with this one?

After your daughter got changed, you both made pancakes together and talked about her garden. (d/n) seemed to enlighten by your agreement to let her keep playing with Jason as long as it was outside where you could see her. She happily told you about all the watermelon seeds they had planted together and how Jason had helped her dig through the harder dirt. Their dirt fight was a story she giggled through and you couldn't help but to chuckle, remembering the couple few times you had seen Jason gently flinging dirt back at her. They hadn't gotten time to water the seeds yet, but you assured her that it would be alright.

After lunch, you both took off your shoes and headed into the living room where you snuggled on the couch and read her a book. She loved books, especially ones that had poetry in them. You read her a couple before taking a small doze together, (d/n) curled up at your side against your belly as you laid back against the soft cushioning of the sofa, a fuzzy blanket slung half heartedly over the both of you.

You were the first to wake up, frustrated with yourself for falling asleep in the first place. You shouldn't be letting your guard down with a killer lurking just outside your doors. It was a straight knock to deaths door step. You stare up at the ceiling, thinking about all the things you had to do. You needed to get (d/n) room set up at least partly sometime today. There were tubs and decorations that needed to be unboxed and hung up. The porch needed to be set up. Tomorrow was the first day of school and your job interview at the bank. You'd have to be swift in order of meeting (d/n) teacher and get to your interview on time.

Gosh. You slumped into the couch, holding your snoozing daughter close. How?

* * *

That night was a difficult one. (d/n) had helped her momma set up some of her own bedroom and a little bit more to the living room. She had wanted to go outside and garden the whole time, but her mom insisted that it'd be done first. (d/n) didn't entirely mind, she loved her mommy and the fun they had together, but she also really wanted to spend time with her new friend.

It had taken a lot of convincing to get her momma to let her go back outside for a little while longer, just enough to stomp on the dirt and water the columns. Jason had shown up in just five minutes, (d/n) running to give him a great, big hug. He hugged back, eyes closing as he relished in the moment, warmth enveloping his dark heart when her toothless smile pointed up at him. He could never get enough of it.

"Momma tried to tell me that we couldn't be friends," (d/n) grumbled and hugged Jason tightly as if he might magically dissappear, her body relaxing, "But she changed her mind and I'm so happy. I'm happy we get to be friends. Aren't you?"

Jason nodded, shocked greatly by (d/n) mom's openness and hospitality. No cops had been called, no screams had been made, no guns had been pointed and no hiding had been done. He didn't blame the woman for sitting on the porch like she was, obviously keeping a sharp eye out on them. In fact he encouraged that notion. It wasn't like he asked to be ignored when he was young and in danger. He erased the dark thoughts by listening to (d/n) friendly chatter as they worked on the garden.

"And when I was little I had a crab that I named Mr. Clippers, but my dad's dog chewed him up," (d/n) said casually as she watered a few of her new plants, looking up at the mute man, "Did you have any fun toys growing up?"

Jason thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly. He barely remembered such tiny details of his past. Everything just seemed dark and tragic. He nodded, thinking about one of the small, plush toys he did have. He didn't remember what animal it was; only that it was soft and comforting.

"What was it?" (d/n) asked curiously, "Was it a bear?"

Jason went ahead and nodded because in his own time, a bear would seem like the most accurate occurrence. "Really? I have a teddy bear too!" (d/n) gasped and pointed to her house, "His names Mr. Tubbles. My momma bought him for me when I was sick one time. He's so nice. He has the power to make you feel better when you're upset."

Jason's lips curved. What a sweet, innocent little girl. He lifted his head. He had seen this Mr. Tubbles. (d/n) mom had even cuddled it on the porch after their brief encounterment.

"If you ever feel sick or get upset, just tell me and we can lend you Mr. Tubbles for a while. I don't mind!" (d/n) smiled brightly up at him, her eyes squinted joyfully. 

Jason nodded, following the little girl into the shed to start putting up all the gadgets they had scattered out. She had said that the hose didn't need to be put up so the only thing to do was gather up seed packets and hang up the shovels.

"I can't wait for our watermelons to grow, can you?" (d/n) asked as she subspaced her seeds and looked to her new friend.

Jason nodded. She grinned, standing up and wiping her hands on her pants. "Thank you for helping me today," She said, slowly approaching the giant with a timid, bashful look on her face, her fingers fidgeting in front of her belly, "Do... do you think you could come back tomorrow after I get off school? You don't have to, but... I really wanna see you again." _You make me happy._

Jason's head lifted. He had never known anyone who had wanted to see him, had never known anyone who could make him feel the way he did now. In all honesty, this was the funnest day he had ever experienced since he'd been drowned, and that went for his beginning days of revenge. This little girl was so open, so kind, so full of wonder and joy, and she wanted to express it all with him there with her.

He smiled and nodded.

(d/n) grinned and raced forward, and this time, Jason was prepared for the hug. She fell into him, pressing her face into his warm belly like it was a soft pillow. "I'm glad we became friends," She said in a soft voice as if she were truly greatful, "Momma thinks you'll hurt me, but I don't. You're too nice... I trust you."

Jason's smile vanished behind his mask and his arms tightened around the little girl as he took into heart every word she spoke.

* * *

Later that night, you were tossing and turning in your empty bed. (d/n) had decided that she wanted to sleep in her own room, so after making dinner and taking a bath, you read her a story and tucked her in. It was peaceful. She had came inside after saying good night to her friend unscratched and unscathed. You drag your hand down your face as you lay there on your back.

You were scared. There was a monster right outside your house, a monster who had killed so many innocent people and yet now you were supposed to tolerate him just because your daughter wanted to be friends. Ugh! You shake your head, feeling as if you had five different guns pointed at your head all at once.

Your stomach growled.

You sat up, moaning at the pain as you ran your fingers across your bulging belly. _Cupcakes_. You were thinking strongly, the sweet, delicate taste of frosting already dancing on your tounge. Cupcakes and something sweet to drink like soda or chocolate milk. Damn your needs. You ate healthy most of the time. One little cupcake wasn't going to hurt anything.

You got up, your nightgown whooshing at your knees as you quietly walk downstairs and make it to the kitchen. You ended up eating three mini cupcakes and drinking some of your favorite soda, sitting at the dining table alone with your thoughts when your daughter suddenly came walking in.

"Momma?"

You twisted in your seat to look at her, concern immediately crossing your frosting covered mouth. "Is everything alright, sweetie?" You set down your drink and pat your lap, "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I had another nightmare," (d/n) mumbled to the ground as she slowly walked over to you.

You wrap your arms around her and pull her sideways onto your lap, a frown attempting to cross your face. "Was it about him?" You ask.

She nodded.

"I'm so sorry, baby," You hug her close to your heart and stroke her head, kissing it fondly. Regret, anger and sorrow mixed together in your body, and you curse at the fact knowing that there was nothing you could do to change what had happened. You didn't tell her what you wished you could have done because that phrase had gotten old and was no longer reassuring. So you settle for a little knee bounce and a kiss to the cheek.

"Hey," You look down at her and tilt your head, "Little B wanted some cupcakes tonight. Would you like one? We can watch a movie while we eat; how bout that?"

It seemed to brighten her mood, and you were relieved to see the toothless smile that crossed her face. "Ok," She slid off your lap and ran off to get her blanket and choose a movie while you gathered a couple snacks for her and fixed up a fresh drink, highly unaware that you were being watched.

Jason was standing outside, gazing in through a gap in your curtains. He was merely observing you and your interactions with (d/n). He had been very concerned about why the little girl had seemed so upset, but seeing what lengths you were going through to make her happy was a sight that made all his worry fade away. You were a good mother. The way you fell asleep on the couch with (d/n) curled up on your lap told him so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there wasn't a lot of Jason/Reader interaction in this chapter but that's why I put the tag *slow burn* because it really is a slow burn. I like to focus on realism when it comes to my stories, especially reader ones, and I hope I'm making good progress so far. Please let me know! I strive for feedback.


	4. Chapter 4

The morning came with a sky that looked exactly how you felt. Dark grey clouds bedazzled the sky with only a few rare peeks of sunlight shining through every so often. Lightning danced in the afar, just beyond reach of the town you lived near. The wind was firm and demanding, unhappily stirring up the birth of summer and all its wonders. (d/n) hadn't been too appeased for she hated storms and worried for her garden. With a measured amount of confidence, you promised her that the rain would only help the seeds to germinate, and besides, the storm wasn't even supposed to hit you all today, just a little bit of rain.

After waking up on the couch with a bad stomach ache, you had allowed your peacefully snoozing daughter to keep resting while you went to take some menstrual medication to possibly help stop the cramps. You had stayed in the bathroom for some time, showering and holding your growing belly as the week and all its stresses battled around inside your head. After you were done, you wrapped a towel around your goosebump covered body and wandered around the house, taking quick peeks outside the curtains and making sure the windows were locked and unbroken. Thankfully, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

You waited until after you finished getting dressed to wake your daughter. She grumbled for a minute, but brightened up immediately at the reminder that today was the first day of school. She bolted upward and looked at the time, gasping before running off to her bedroom to get dressed, implying something oddly vague about saying goodbye to her best friend. Hopefully, you thought, her friend wasn't an early riser.

As the wind continued to offend the world outside, blowing innocent leaves off their stems and rocking the branches of trees, you sat inside, listening to your daughter's innocent chatter as she ate breakfast. "Do you think my teacher will be nice?" She asked, legs swinging back and forth as she sipped from her juice box.

"He should be, dear," You answer, hardly touching your own plate as you held your head up with your palm.

(d/n) looked at you with big, curious eyes and hummed, "Do you think I'll have one teacher or two?"

"Just one I think," You say, knowing that living in the city, (d/n) had at least more than five teachers she had to work with, and it was exhausting even for you and all you had to do was remember their names. Plus, a few of them were very rude, and it took a lot of tongue biting to keep from saying anything.

But, here it was different. The community was small and simple. The three schools were naive and plain, holding just the right amount of kids to make things even more relaxed. From what you learned, (d/n) would have one teacher named 'Mr. Franklin'. 

"Like the president!" She exclaimed brightly.

You smile at her, loving her sweet, innocent toothlessness. She was so precious. Your heart ached with commitment. You'd do anything for her, keep her away from every hard, cruel, insane driving force of this world, give her all your love and guidance. She was everything to you.

You stood up from your chair and took one last drink of your morning beverage. "How about when we get there, you tell him all about your favorite president, hm? I'm sure he'd love to hear it," You look at her mostly empty plate, deciding that you'll just wait until you get back home to do dishes.

(d/n) followed suit and stood up, pushing her chair in and going to throw her juice box away. "Do you really think he'll like him too?" She asked and adjusted her pink jacket, following you to the door.

"Well, he teaches history, doesn't he? I bet he knows all about FDR... maybe even some stuff you didn't even know," You exclaimed, picking up her backpack and teddy bear.

"Wow, you think so?" She stared in awe, clearly excited to learn more about her favorite president.

You nod and give her a confident smile, "I know so. Now, do you want to take Mr. Tubbles with you?"

(d/n) went silent, holding a knuckle up to her chin as she hummed, looking to be debating as if it were an adult decision. "Mm... No, not today," She grinned up at you, "I think I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" You ask again. Normally (d/n) never went anywhere without her protector teddy bear in hand. She had always claimed that it was magical and had the power to make anyone feel better if only snuggled for a short while. There was no telling how many tears had made their tiny yet distinguished marks on it. Years of pain had stiffened it up just so that it could be washed away again and again. 

(d/n) smiled at you with a confident nod following after, "I'm sure. I know you've been upset so I thought maybe he could spend the day with you. And Jason too if he needs him. Could you tell him that he can borrow Mr.Tubbles any time he wants? Please?"

'A monster like Jason would only tear Mr. Tubbles apart.' Your mind demanded you say, but the way (d/n) sweet, innocent smile and vigorous, bright eyes looked hopefully up at you beat down the aggressions booming inside your troubled head. There was absolutely no win. 'He's a big boy.' You could say, but knew it wouldn't do any good in the end. Your daughter was incredibly open minded and non-judgmental. She believed that anyone could do anything as long as it was good and made them happy.

In what was the millionth defeat, your proud yet sad eyes adjusted to the dreadful happiness that pooled in your chest and you nod, clutching the teddy bear and rattling your car keys together. At least you could make the impression that you truly did intend on telling Jason that the teddy bear was 'free to use for happiness' any time he needed it, but really you just planned on staying inside locked doors all day.

There were plenty of excuses you could come up with later.

  
The ride to school was smooth and peaceful. (d/n) had fiddled with the radio until she found the station containing all her favorite songs; mostly old, classical country or other things of the sort. As she listened, she asked you for opinions about the most random things, wowed and awed the vast land, pointed out the amazing beauties of the dark, cruel world and chatted innocently about endless possibilities. Where she even learned such an intense mindset, you did not know, but were thankful for anyway. At least it proved that she was strong enough to move past the bad things in life.

When you made it to her school, you ended up having to park on a patch of lawn grass because of how crowded the parking lot was. Children of all kinds filtered in the doors with their parents/guardians not too far behind. You feel unease prick at your skin, unsure of how this town worked. Country folk weren't something you were really experienced with. It was still taking time to adjust to the whole wild land, trees, garden and wooden house thing. New, but definitely worth adapting to.

"Momma?" You hear (d/n) murmur lowly as you unbuckle your seat belt. Looking over at her, you see that she has gone still, eyes gazing nervously to the floor board as she slumped against the seat.

"Yes dear?" You ask, already feeling a stab of indignation at her negativity.

"Do you think I should tell anyone that... I have a dad?" She asked, her eyes flitting off more in the opposite direction, lost, hurt and heavily abandoned, "Like in the city; they didn't know either, but... maybe they could know this time? Maybe I could find someone who knows what it's like and we could become best friends forever?"

If there hadn't been so much already destroyed, your heart would have shattered more. To not have to explain the intense traumas of life, you all had come up with the lie that (d/n) didn't have a father. That way it didn't always have to hurt the way it did explaining why it was that her dad should never be mentioned in the first place. A getaway strategy. Something plain and rather horrid when exposed to the truth.

Your brows furrow in a squint of understanding. "If that's what you want to say, (d/n)." You nod, knowing that it was her right as a person to be able to make these small, raw decisions herself. "Whatever you want to tell them, you tell them. I can't make that choice for you."

(d/n) looked up at you, her facial expression matching the most of yours. It was the same pain shared from the same lies and neglect. "I wish I didn't have to tell them at all," She admitted, shoulders slumping.

The brutal ache in your heart made every muscled feeling in your body cramp with resentment and sorrow. You nearly whimper in the tragedy of it all. "I know, (d/n)," Your eyes tried to water, but you blink back the wall of liquid pain threatening to spill, and secured the dam, "But the great thing about it is that you have a whole new opportunity to meet people just like you. It's sad to think about, but there are kids who go through the same thing. You just... have to find them."

(d/n) nodded, eyes glancing down to the armrest of the car. You tilt your head in restlessness, reaching out to pull her into a hug. "I'm sorry, (d/n). I'm sorry that you have to go through this," It was something you had said over a thousand times, and would probably never stop saying. "But, if there's one thing I do know for certain, it's that when you do meet these new friends, you're going to give them so much hope and joy, they won't even remember why they ever felt sad at all."

"Really?" She muffled against your shoulder, small arms wrapped around your upper back.

"Really," You reply and kiss her head, eyes stinging and heart throbbing. Some times, the effort didn't feel worth it. You sigh.

You held your daughter's hand as you walked inside the crowded school. It was a long, hard step away from the school she last went to. Expressive, overlapping posters hung drastically on the white, wooden walls, the cement floor shined with tiny footprints and years of chipped madness, and the people were dressed in simple plaid, floral or plain shirts with mostly jeans and some times skirts. Nothing truly outstanding. The halls were small yet full of life and chatter. No one was on their phone or being quiet. Honestly, it felt like home.

You smiled, stopping to ask a kind teacher where Mr. Franklin's room was at. She happily flicked her fingers in the direction of room twenty-eight before asking (d/n) a little about herself. With a court handshake and a hug, she welcomed you both warmly and gave good luck to your sails. Such a nice lady, your heart perked. Maybe this wasn't such a bad place after all.

When you made it to Mr. Franklin's room, you copy your daughter as she wowed and grinned at the creative room and all the kids in it. Parents stood about talking to each other while the kids played around either outside or at the desks. It was something so big and yet seemed so simple. No ones eyes were intensely focused or engaged. The room was homey. Nothing felt like it had to matter.

And you were thankful for that.

"Ah, hello there," Said a charming voice from behind you and (d/n).

Turning around at the same time, you and your daughter look up at the neatly dressed, middle aged man known as Mr. Franklin. He wore his badge joyfully and had a rather funny gap in his smile that made him all the more appealing, especially to your daughter. His light pink and blue plaid shirt had the outline of a cartoon character and his brown pants bore a symbol of the school on it. He was the statue of intermediate school.

"Hello," Your daughter immediately stepped forward to give him a hug, "My names (d/n)."

"Oh, my, well aren't you just the sweetest thing," He smiled, seemingly awkward for all his attempts to feign rightness in the unexpected embrace. You tilt your head in amusement and distaste at his unease as he patted your daughter's back carefully before backing away, clearing his throat. "Great hug, now. Ms. (y/n)." He looked immediately to you, "May I speak with you in my office? Privately?"

He made a rather bleak expression with his mouth and eyes, gesturing to the room as a way to distract your open minded daughter. You nearly sigh again at his incompetence. Couldn't he just say it? Why were men always so complicated? Rolling your eyes, you kneel down slightly and say soothingly to your daughter, "Me and Mr. Franklin are going to go talk in his office for a second. How about you go on and try to make some new friends, hm?"

"But we just got here," She pointed out nervously, fumbling with the hems of her pockets.

You nod in understanding, "I know, but it'll just be a minute, ok?" You give her a hug and say in a much more encouraging tone, "Now, go out there and show them what you got."

"Ok, momma," She said, grinning before scampering away.

You watch her head timidly towards a group of girls in the back of the room before smiling and turning back to the teacher. He was already holding his office door open, looking more professional than friendly. You bow your head, moving on in. Some things never changed no matter where the place or time.

After he shut the door to his office, you don't care to sit down in the rather hipster, plastic beanbag chair. His entire office was a blink away from high city. You furrow your brows in displeasure, moving forward and gazing down at the rather disorganized desk. There lied a picture a girl who looked to be in her late teens. She had dark tan skin, blond hair and glistening brown eyes. What she was wearing though had your chest huffing with nonplussed enthusiasm. She was wearing nothing more than a bright, yellow bikini.

What a lovely thing to display on your desk in an elementary school. You blinked and gazed away, hoping that the teacher was decent enough to keep kids out of his office.

"So, Mrs. (y/n), how are you feeling today? Still alive I see," Said the teacher in a rather mildly shocked voice as he sat down in his desk chair, lacing his fingers together in what looked to be judgemental curiosity. You honestly weren't sure if he was being genuine or just a low class jerk.

Tilting your head once, you put on a fake smile and shrug, "I guess I'm feeling alive."

Franklin made a noise of confirmation, eyes focused on his desk like he was debating. "I'd like to talk to you about your daughter- who seems like a bright, beautiful, young lady, don't get me wrong, ha... But I'm a little bit concerned about how her role may end here in (name) school."

As the words flooded your ears, you tilt your head even more and squint your eyes in offense. He did not just imply what you think he was implying. "Excuse me?"

Franklin leaned back in his chair, lifting one vague hand up and making a limp face. "Look, I understand how it is, truly I do. You were divorced, you moved (state/country) , got the restraining order on dad- I get it... But here, these are good people- good kids- and the last thing they need is more stress on their little minds."

"What are you trying to say?" You ask, feeling anger clawing at the inner bars of your chest.

"I think you know," He retorted, almost sounding sarcastically authorized.

You make a small glare, stating firmly, "No I don't." But you did have an idea.

The teacher made a tired sigh and looked at the edges of his desk before his eye caught a rather intriguing artifact. Gazing at you, he smiled and reached out to pluck up the picture. "This was my daughter... Ally. She was... killed... along with a couple other kids just a little ways down by the Crystal Lake..." He traced his fingers over the shiny glass protecting the rather intimate photo, "It was a tragedy. A lot of people suffered, including kids in this very school, and I... I just don't know if they're ready to face the same thing again, you know?"

You grimaced at the fever and depth in which he cherished the picture and tried to keep from commenting. It looks like he might have loved her a little too much.... "I'm sorry for your loss. It's unfortunate that anyone should have to suffer that way," It was words you knew you'd have to awkwardly cough out eventually, "But I still don't understand what you're trying to say."

"Isn't it obvious?" He looked at you, setting the picture down firmly, "You live right by Crystal Lake."

"So? And for the record, I live more than a mile away," You say, defense rising to your throat.

"Look, I'm just trying to state facts here. You live near the camp so that means that there's a chance you or your daughter could get hurt, and let's face it, these kids just aren't ready for that."

"Are you saying that we're going to get killed?" You ask, anger beating like a fire inside your pumping chest. Offense had more than taken you over.

"No, no, I didn't say that, but it is a possibility," He rose his finger up and gave you a suggestive look you scuffed at, "You look like a smart woman, (y/n), I know you know about the history of Camp Crystal Lake."

"Yes, I'm well aware, and let me just say that me and my daughter are perfectly safe," You don't know why you had such an overpowering urge to defend yourself, especially since you knew deep down that you weren't safe, but there was just something about this guy that made you uncomfortable, made a pit of unease strangle the depths of your stomach.

He only seemed to walk right around the implications though. "Have you ever considered Alternative school?" He asked, continuing on only when your silence answered, "It's a really nice place, great for kids who are suffering losses or traumatic stresses. And in our community, we keep it straight. Your daughter won't even have to go a full day, she can get out early or any time she wants. How does that sound?"

You stare at him, the words plopping together faster than a simple puzzle could. Your eyes were wide, holding disbelief, defense and anger. "You want my daughter to go to alternative school so in case she dies it doesn't make a bigger impact on the community," You state bluntly.

"Ding, ding, ding," Franklin made a finger gun at you like an achievement had been made, his grin offensive in all the wrong ways, "That's it, Mrs. (y/n), I'm glad you understand."

"No, I don't actually," You huff at his arrogance and turn around towards the door, "I am not moving my daughter to a different school just because you think she'll die."

"But think about the children, (y/n)," He pouted dramatically, "Think about how sad they'll be if something did happen to your daughter. They'll be crushed, scared... traumatized."

You look back at him just as soon as you start to open the door, your eyes cold and full of dismissal, "If my daughter could make it, then so can they."

And you left.

  
After giving your daughter a departing hug and kiss you head on out to your interview at the bank, reminding yourself to keep a close eye out on that freak teacher of hers. Surprisingly, the interview went well and the manager fit you in right where you wanted to be. Six hour morning shifts five days a week. Perfect. Money wasn't necessarily a bad struggle in your life. Despite the vast payments you've had to make recently to get things running, you still had lots of money in your savings and a hefty retirement check coming in from your last job.

When you got home, you stayed in your car for a few minutes, just watching the dark clouds stroll by as if the cruel parts of the world below didn't need to be even more outlined with wet shame and booms of discourage. The trees swayed and swayed to the rough wind. You take comfort in knowing that there was no giant, hulking figure with a machete amongst them. A smile graced your lips as you lean your head back, thinking about how absolutely ridiculous it was that your daughter befriended one of the biggest, nastiest killers known alive. And even more amazing, he wanted to be friends back!

Rolling your eyes, you pop open your car door and walk inside your house, immediately locking your door. Curtains would need to be set up. Everything else could wait till tomorrow. For now you settled with getting into more comfortable clothes, cooking something quick to eat and watching a little bit of your favorite show. Mostly you weren't even paying attention. There were too many vigorous things on your mind right now. Focus on anything particularly distracting would be a rare gift indeed. But for now you were trapped. Sooner or later, you pulled yourself up, got a hammer and some nails, and set up the five last remaining curtains. They were your favorite color and helped to keep the bright light out. Hopefully they helped with keeping strangers from peeking in as well.

Once there was an hour till your daughter got out of school, you curse the fact that no rain graced the world yet, and cursed even more at the realization that you would have to go water the garden yourself. You promised (d/n) you would, and it was currently the hottest part of the day.

Staring out your front door window for five minutes, you take in the hopeful fact that maybe there was no sociopathic killer outside and opened the door. Your rain boots clattered nervously against the faded wood of the porch, and a dry lump lay limp in your throat. In your hand was the green watering can. It sloshed with cool water that you ached to hurry up and shed upon the scattered garden. Your senses were wolf level sharp, seeking out any noise, sound or feeling that appeared like it could be a threat.

All you were met with was the silence of the nature.

You made it to the garden and quickly began to water the lumps in the ground. (d/n) really had done a good job planting the seeds, you smiled. You should have helped her, should have gone off the porch and proved that you would give to her the things she was never able to have, and you would always, always be a part of it. You shouldn't have let your fear stop you from making the advances you knew would be best for her. She was hand to hand with a deranged killer for Pete sake!

Your eyes stung with the intention of crying as guilt swarmed your heart. You had no good excuses, just that it was a natural reaction. One that you had practiced with your husband. Every time he struck or threatened you, sitting down far away and crying was the best resource you had or else he would do worse violations. No more though. You weren't going to be that person. There might be a new potential threat in your life now, but it wasn't going to be something you tolerated from a distance.

A twig broke in the distance causing your head to snap up and heart to instantly freeze. There, standing tall and motionless just beside the shed was him. Jason Voorhees. Damn he was massive. You dropped the water can, fingers and arms beginning a light tremble. The wisdom of your conscience told you to run and hide while your heart repeated all the nice, heartbreaking things your daughter had said.

Lips parting in insecurity, you take a step back, unsure of what his intentions were since (d/n) wasn't around. This was ridiculous, your mind screamed. You should be running and screaming, and believe it, these reactions were number one on your list, but you just stand there, legs trembling and eyes burning.

He began walking toward you.

Ice cold breath caught in your throat. You released a pained gasp and take an instinctive step back. He kept approaching. You clench your teeth, desperately wanting to flee but trying your very hardest to stand true to your word. He didn't have his famous machete in hand, or anything that seemed potentially dangerous. Even the way he walked seemed lazy and unprofessional. You don't know how, but it eased some tension in your chest.

As he began to move across the grassy trail in the middle of the garden, you release a shaky breath and fought the urge not to bolt. His shadow touched yours as he stopped a little more than five feet away. You tilt your head, unable to fully look at him without wanting to scream. "(d/n)'s at school," It took a moment to adjust your trembling lips straight enough to speak correctly, and even then your voice wavered in obvious fear, "S-she said that she wanted to garden later a-and that you could use her teddy bear M-Mr. Tubbles any time you wanted."

Ridiculous, ridiculous. Ridiculous!

You bit your lip, not able to fully believe that you were speaking to a killer like this. For the love of- you were supposed to be screaming, yelling, crying, making threats, calling the police and maybe even groaning in possible pain. But yet here you were, talking to a killer like his motives actually weren't to slash you into pieces. You sigh, breath somewhat frantic.

Knowing that he couldn't speak, you slowly look up at him, afraid to find murderous intent or malice. However, he seemed just as motionless as the other day when he had approached you, his posture limp and unmoving. You smile a forced, wobbly smile and tilt your head, "She really likes you."

Honestly, you weren't sure what else to say. You didn't even know if Jason Voorhees was capable of even caring about these sorts of things. But saying that did make his head rise a little, his body barely noticeably jerking. It made your eyes widen slightly, faint hope swelling in your chest. "You're her best friend," You add, biting your lip as a tear slipped out.

You expected him to keep standing there immobile and silent, and that caused you to be even more terrified and unprepared when he started to approach you. Fast. Invading your personal space.

You barely voiced one third of a scream before your boot caught on something and you were falling back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone read at least most of this chapter. Again, I know there wasn't a lot of Jason and it might have been kind of boring, but it does give lots of hints and insights to future battles and progression.


End file.
